The Blessings of Liberty
by heyjupiter
Summary: Complete! West Wing and X-Men movieverse crossover. The aftermath of a mutant attack on the President. TWW Season 3 and X2 spoilers. More of a TWW story than a TXM story.
1. We Begin

The Blessings of Liberty, Part 1   
by heyjupiter/Renata of Doom (renata@frowl.org) 1/5/04   
Summary: The first part of a West Wing/X-Men movieverse crossover. Senior staff talks strategy following a mutant attack on the President.   
PG   
TWW Season 3 & X2 spoilers   
Notes: I've had this idea bouncing around forever, so I'm finally giving it a try. Much more of a TWW story than an X-Men story, so if you're a TWW fan with no X-Men knowledge, you should be fine.   
  
**(This story is written in shifting 2nd-person. That means that each chapter has a different narrator.)** CJ's POV.   
  
  
"Do we really want to announce this publicly?" Toby was asking.   
  
"Oh, yeah, sure, let's keep it a secret, that's worked real well for us in the past," Leo replied, annoyance and sarcasm clear in his tone.   
  
You were trying to stay calm, but that never was your strong suit. "I think there's a difference between lying about MS and not revealing an attack of this nature. Especially if we don't know for sure--"   
  
"I saw him, CJ, he was a mutant. He vanished into thin air!"   
  
"Well, that may be, Leo, but my point here is that public outcry about something like this could do real damage to the mutant rights movement. It's fragile as it is, and if anti-mutant zealots have something like this to talk up... there could be riots, there could be lynchings..."   
  
"This really couldn't have come at a worse time," Toby chimed in. "An attack of this nature could make the President appear weak, and it forces his hand on the mutant issue."   
  
"The mutant **issue**?" Sam, ever idealistic, sounded incredulous. "I don't understand how this even is an issue! The same Constitution, the same Bill of Rights that protects you and I, it protects mutants too."   
  
"You know that and I know that, Sam, but there are a lot of people out there who haven't been to law school and are a little scared of people who can, can, I don't know, shoot lasers out of their fingers or whatever. And they're a little concerned."   
  
"Well, there's no way the President can support the Registration Act," you said.   
  
Toby sighed. "I know. But politically speaking, right now it would be really great if we didn't believe everyone was entitled to the same civil liberties."   
  
Josh, never one to admit defeat, was fidgeting. "There's got to be some way... some way we can play this right. I mean, if people see that the President was attacked by a mutant, and he's still unconcerned..."   
  
"'Unconcerned' is a bad word," said Toby. "It implies... carelessness. We don't want that. His 'Strong leader' numbers have never been that great."   
  
"But right now his trustworthiness ratings are way, way down. An attack like this... how many Secret Service agents were involved? Not to mention those people on the tour? We can't hide this, word's gonna get out. And it needs to come from us first, people need to know the truth."   
  
"Besides, if we're the last ones out on this one, I'm going to have a lot of fires to put out," you added. Not like you didn't have enough problems, with a MS scandal that was barely a news cycle old paired with a rocky re-election campaign. "Sam's right, we need to be the ones to announce this. It's just a matter of how."   
  
"I say, you just go out, give a briefing."   
  
"Sure it should be CJ, and not someone from the Pentagon, Josh? It is a matter of national security," Sam asked. Was he trying to protect you, you wondered.   
  
"No, that would make it seem too out of the ordinary. I mean, yes, it is out of the ordinary," he added, sensing the argument that everyone had been on the verge of making, "but we don't want it to seem excessively so. We don't want this blown out of proportion. We say that as far as we know, the assailant was working alone."   
  
"And I make sure to emphasize that this doesn't change the President's stance on mutant rights."   
  
"Right."   
  
"That's all great, guys, but you're forgetting the big one." Leo sounded exasperated.   
  
"The President has never clearly defined his stance on mutant rights, has he?" you said.   
  
Toby and Sam looked a bit sheepish. "We were always waiting for a good time to bring that one out. Problem is, the time never came," Sam replied.   
  
"And this definitely is not the time," Toby followed.   
  
"Looks like it has to be," said Leo. "I wish we had time for Joey to get us some numbers on this..."   
  
"We don't need Joey to tell us that mutants are an unpopular group right now, and this is not going to help them out." You wished you didn't have to put it so bluntly.   
  
Josh looked amused. "It's kind of ironic, you know... most of the most staunch anti-mutant activists are Republican... so maybe the attack on the President will actually serve to improve their public opinion where they need it most."   
  
"I don't think it works like that. Unfortunately," lamented Toby.   
  
Leo looked at his watch. "Look... CJ, you'll give a briefing in 20 minutes. Sam and Toby, you polish up whatever you've got on the mutant thing and get it to her in 15." You smiled at this, knowing that Sam probably has a perfect speech saved on his computer, but it'll kill him to have such a scant final editing time. "CJ, I'll get you a Secret Service brief as soon as possible. Josh, you have a meeting with Bruno in... now. Any questions?"   
  
You realized, then, that you have all forgotten the most obvious one, swept up in the shock. "How is the President?"   
  
Leo appeared surprised. "He's fine. The guy missed. Nobody's hurt. Except him."   
  
You smiled. "Well, some good news to report, right?" It was a small consolation. 


	2. 1963 All Over Again

The Blessings of Liberty, Part 2   
by heyjupiter/Renata of Doom (renata@frowl.org) 1/5/04   
Summary: The second part of a West Wing/X-Men movieverse crossover. Senior staff talks strategy following a mutant attack on the President. President's POV.   
PG   
TWW Season 3 & X2 spoilers   
Notes: I've had this idea bouncing around forever, so I'm finally giving it a try. Much more of a TWW story than an X-Men story, so if you're a TWW fan with no X-Men knowledge, you should be fine. Please review if you read this... I'd love to know what people think!   
  
  
You waved Abbey away. "I'm fine, really," you said. "And the Army doctor agrees."   
  
She still looked tense. "I know. I just worry."   
  
"I know," you said. There was a pause.   
  
"I'm still pissed at you."   
  
"Yeah, I know." You hugged her anyway, saying, "I've got a security meeting... I'll be back tonight. You sticking around?"   
  
"Maybe," she said, with a look that meant yes. You just nodded, and left the room without another word.   
  
Charlie was waiting outside the door; concern was written on his face like graffiti. His shoulders were too young for this kind of a burden, you thought to yourself. When he saw you, he stood up. "Sir, are you alright? I didn't get to see you after the... incident, there was so much going on..."   
  
"I'm fine, Charlie. The Secret Service men did their jobs, everyone is fine. Although I might need a new desk."   
  
A ghost of a smile graced Charlie's lips. "I just hope finding a desk won't be as hard as finding a carving knife."   
  
You kept a straight face. "Much harder, I'm afraid. You'll need a protractor when you start looking."   
  
"You're joking."   
  
"You wish."   
  
Mrs. Landingham stuck her head out of her office, and, seeing you and Charlie standing in the hall, frowned. "Mr. President! Ron has been waiting for a good five minutes."   
  
"Ah, I'm the President! He can wait a few more minutes!" You were faking it, going out of your way to pretend like thigs were normal. Just keep bantering, Jed, keep a smile on your face. The truth was, you were a little shaken up. This was different from Rosslyn-- at least those gunmen had obeyed the laws of gravity, if not the laws of the United States. But you **were** the President, after all, and you needed to keep up appearances. Blinking, you walked into your office. "Hi, Ron."   
  
"Mr. President." You waved at him to sit back down.   
  
"What's up, Ron?"   
  
"We're increasing your security detail. We've got all the agencies searching for your assailant, obviously. But... this is tricky, because we don't know what we're up against. I think it can be agreed that he-- or she-- was a mutant. However, we're still not clear what their powers are-- we have a lot of conflicting stories. Smoke, the ability to be in two or more places at once, walking through walls-- what exactly did he do?" He ran a hand across his forehead and sighed. "So you can understand the challenges we're facing here."   
  
You did understand, and you also knew that whatever Ron was telling you, he was hiding twice as much. "Have you spoken with any of the experts on mutants? Like.. oh, the woman who spoke to Congress?" You frowned and wracked your memory. "Dr. Jean Grey. Or I was just reading an article by a Dr. Henry McCoy... perhaps they could help?"   
  
"The Bureau has its own specialists," he said.   
  
You nodded. "I'd still like them contacted, however. Maybe not for this, though, maybe... I'm sorry, I'm thinking out loud. Go on." Ron nodded, and continued your security briefing. In your head, however, you were thinking about putting together a commission to study mutants, to get some answers to the questions everyone is asking and to find the questions people **should** be asking. You were thinking about ways to do this without frightening mutants, without making them think of the hated registration act. Truth be told, you were fascinated by mutants. The whole thing almost made you wish you had gone into genetics rather than economics. You were still thinking about this as Ron showed himself the door and Mrs. Landingham let Senator Kelly and Col. Stryker in. Senator Kelly has intrigued you-- how does someone go from being an outspoken anti-mutant activist to one of their strongest Congressional allies? You admired his courage, if nothing else. Stryker, on the other hand... you'd met with him once before. He was a high-ranking member of a NSA commission on mutants, if you remembered right. You hadn't agreed with his position. But now you smiled and offered them both drinks. You hated to be on the defensive.   
  
Stryker and Kelly were fighting now, about a school. Stryker brought out pictures, showed you the jet coming out of the basketball court. Military talk-- you were on the defensive, again. "What kind of a jet?" you asked. Stryker didn't know, but wanted permission to search the school. You frowned. You didn't really know why these two were here, where were Fitz and Nancy? Dammit.   
  
"Do you have a warrant?"   
  
Stryker paused. "A warrant? We don't need a warrant!"   
  
"This is a school, on private property, in the United States of America. You have no evidence of any crime being committed. You do need a warrant."   
  
"Sir, due respect, these are photos of a military jet leaving the school!"   
  
"Maybe they got it legally. Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe it's someone else's and they were just making a quick layover at the school. But right now I see no reason to take military action against this... school." This was clearly not the answer Stryker was hoping to receive.   
  
"Sir, you were just attacked by a mutant, isn't that reason enough to..."   
  
"To investigate a school with a plane? I want more evidence of... anything, before I can order any such thing. Why doesn't the Bureau do some investigation, and then I'll talk it over with the Joint Chiefs."   
  
"But sir--"   
  
"Thank you, Col. Stryker, that will be all. Pleasure to see you again, Senator Kelly."   
  
You heard them talking about Magneto as they exited your office. He was another fascinating man, from what you knew of him. The mutant situation, these human beings with superhuman powers... you knew, then, what kind of a situation this could be. You knew you were looking at 1963 all over again. The Mutant Registration Act, you didn't see how people could look at that any differently than they did Jim Crow laws or Japanese internment or... and yet, you could. Because while racist fears were one thing, fear of a guy who could crush you with a car using no more than his mind... that was something you could be afraid of. Which, you knew, made your battle here all the more uphill. Still, when you swore your Presidential oath to uphold the laws of this land, you meant it. You would fight to secure the blessings of liberty for all of your country's citizens, even the ones with super powers. Especially the ones with super powers. And if that cost you re-election, you knew it would be worth it.   
  



	3. The Good Fight

The Blessings of Liberty, Part 3   
by heyjupiter/Renata of Doom (renata@frowl.org) 1/8/04   
Summary: The third part of a West Wing/X-Men movieverse crossover. Senior staff talks strategy following a mutant attack on the President. Sam's POV.   
PG   
TWW Season 3 & X2 spoilers   
  
  
The news was a constant presence in your life, always on in the background somewhere in the office. You usually just tuned it out, half-listening, but there were four words that could always capture your attention: "We interrupt this broadcast...." You heard them, then, and instinctively turned your head to watch. "... the mutant terrorist Magneto has escaped from..." Eyes wide, you reached out and grabbed your phone, it seemed, before it rang. "Sam, get down here. Magneto--"   
  
"I heard, Toby, I'll be there in a sec." You sighed. It was going to be a long day.   
  
You were, somehow, the last of the senior staff to make it to the conference room, which earned you a glare from Bruno. "I'm sure you've all realized that this is not good news for you guys," he said. "We're still reeling from the MS disclosure, and the attack on the President-- by a mutant-- is still fresh, and now the most frightening mutant of them all is free again. None of these inspire confidence among the American people."   
  
You didn't need Bruno to tell you that you needed a spin, and fast. You hated the mutant controversy, mostly because you didn't understand why it was a controversy in the first place. People were people, to you. "Look, what about an education campaign? It's helping with MS, maybe if we could just... get people to realize that most mutants are harmless?"   
  
"Easier said than done," said Bruno, with a lifted eyebrow.   
  
"The biggest problem is that we don't have any positive statistics about mutants," Josh said thoughfully. "People only hear about mutants when they commit crimes or when they've been lynched."   
  
"There's so much we don't know about mutants... a lot of these anti-mutant zealots probably know mutants and aren't even aware of it."   
  
"Yes!" Josh snapped his fingers. "What we need is... some high profile person to be a mutant. Um."   
  
You all realized the problem with this at roughly the same time. "Of course... that means we need someone to be willing to reveal themselves as a mutant. And for someone to actually **be** a mutant."   
  
"It would be career suicide."   
  
"Kinda like announcing you have MS?" Josh asked Bruno.   
  
"Kinda like that."   
  
"Look," you said, "We're getting nowhere with this. Let's just focus on the Magneto thing."   
  
"It's not really our problem," Toby said, entering the conversation. "He was in a state prison, he--"   
  
"Doesn't matter, CJ's going to get questions asking if we think the attack on the President was orchestrated by Magneto." You hated to admit it, but Bruno had a point.   
  
"Do we?" asked Toby.   
  
Josh shrugged. "FBI's looking into it, but I don't think he would have been able to plan this from prison... personally, I think it's more his style to come here and drop a car or something on the President himself."   
  
"But officially... 'We're looking into it'?"   
  
"Bingo."   
  
Bruno looked impatient. "Look," he said, "I'm sure you guys know that the easiest thing for Barlet to do would be to support the Mutant Registration Act."   
  
"No way," said Toby.   
  
"Definitely not," Josh agreed.   
  
You nodded. "The Registration Act is unconstitutional."   
  
"That's up for the courts to decide! If Bartlet could just support it, or even refrain from denouncing it, it would be a good step."   
  
"A step towards, towards fascism!" You were getting worked up, and you knew it. "If the President supports an act requiring mutants to identify themselves, even if they have no criminal history, no reason for suspicion... that's a very, very dangerous precedent. After that, who's to say it won't end with camps, or ghettos? Or how about a yellow 'M' on their sleeves?"   
  
"You're overreacting, Sam."   
  
"Am I, Bruno? Am I? I just... I don't see why, if the only way to win is to be like the other guy, is it really worth it?"   
  
"I don't think the only way to win is to be like the other guy," Bruno said levelly. "Fine, I understand if you guys don't want to support the act. But it's just making this more of an uphill battle for you."   
  
Josh shrugged. "We've fought uphill battles before."   
  
"I'd rather fight the good fight and lose than win by supporting this act." You were aware of your tendency to resort to aphorisms in the heat of the moment (you'd never let something as cheesy as "fight the good fight" stay in one of your speeches,) but you couldn't help it. You knew you weren't alone among the senior staff in hating this feeling of helplessness. With the campaign, it had been, yes, an uphill battle and a good fight, but you didn't have these suffocating handicaps. But this... MS, mutants, even Josh's tobacco gaffe... Bruno was right. Even though you still resented his presence, he did make good points.   
  
Toby let out a deep breath. "Okay. I think Sam was onto something with the mutant education thing. As far as... uncloseted mutants, that's out of our court. Right now we're 'looking into' a connection between Magneto and the President's attack, still trying to avoid comment on the Registration Act but if we have to, we're opposed."   
  
Bruno gave a terse nod.   
  
"Sam, you go tell CJ, then meet me in my office. We need to work on a statement about, well, all this."   
  
"Right," you said. Another day, another impossible fight. But sometimes the impossible became merely improbable, and sometimes the improbable became merely unlikely... and your job was to turn the unlikely into the sure thing. And you were damn good at it. 


	4. History Repeats Itself

The Blessings of Liberty, Part 4   
by heyjupiter/Renata of Doom (renata@frowl.org) 1/30/04   
Summary: The fourth part of a West Wing/X-Men movieverse crossover. Senior staff talks strategy following a mutant attack on the President.   
PG   
TWW Season 3 & X2 spoilers   
Notes: Changed this a tiny bit from the movie, just because. I mean, if I've already changed the President, surely I can change a bit more :) Charlie POV. Sorry about the long delay between chapters; I moved back into the dorms and I've been busy with moving back in and schoolwork and such.   
  
  
You had been there when they came. You had just been leaving the Oval Office, had finished telling the President about some arrival or another, when they had suddenly **appeared** in the Oval Office, accompanied by a startling clap of thunder. They had apparently either not noticed you or not cared, and so you had heard the whole thing, standing in the corner with a look of awe on your face. You were no stranger to power-- you were, after all, assistant to the President, and you worked in the same building as the most powerful men and women in the country-- but this, this was something altogether different. These people had just materialized in one of the most heavily guarded rooms in the world. And they were telling the President that a war was coming, and that he had been betrayed by Col. Stryker, that he had arranged the attack.   
  
A war? A war between mutants and humans? The thought made you reel. That would be... unimaginable. If just one mutant, Magneto, had been able to wreak such havok, what if every mutant in the world was fighting together against every human in the world? You shivered, although you weren't sure if it was from the thought of war or from the sudden storm, or maybe both. And now they were gone, and you, wide-eyed, looked at the President.   
  
"Sir, are you alright?"   
  
"I'm fine, Charlie." And he did **look** fine, although you were sure he had to be as shaken up as you were.   
  
"Um. Sir, if you don't mind me asking... what do you think, about all of that?" You didn't usually ask him questions, not about policy. You didn't believe it was your place. But this was different, you two had just shared something.   
  
He looked thoughtful. "Well, I'm certainly going to look into Col. Stryker. These documents they had..." He shook his head. "If they're even half-true, he'll be guilty of treason. And I think... maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Maybe to fight mutant terrorists, we need mutant police." He paused. "Voluntary, of course. And I think... we definitely need to take measures to prevent a war between mutants and humans. I wouldn't want to be on the losing side of **that**."   
  
"Would you want to be on the winning side of that, sir?"   
  
He smiled, sadly. "Not really, no. But I don't think a war is as imminent as they claim. Things are bad, sure, but I believe that human beings really want to do the right thing. It's just that sometimes people don't know what the right thing is. I think they want to protect their families, not realizing that they have mutants **in** their families, not realizing that if we take rights away from mutants, it makes the whole country less free. Of course, there's also the possibility that we're all a bunch of closed-minded bigots."   
  
(If you were ever asked the thing that surprised you most about the President, you would reply, "His sense of humor.")   
  
He continued. "I feel like this is society's chance to get something right... I mean, we've pretty well screwed up with all the other civil rights movements. How long did it take for women and African-Americans to get their rights fully recognized? Not to mention homosexuals. Why can't people learn from history?"   
  
You shrugged. "Some people are still living history, Mr. President. I might not have to sit at the back of the bus anymore, but who would be more likely to get hired as a bus driver? Me or Sam?"   
  
"I've seen the way Sam drives. No, I shouldn't joke, because you're right, Charlie." He shook his head. "How are we going to look to future generations?" At that moment, he looked so... old and helpless and hopeless that you could hardly believe he was the President, could hardly connect this shadow with the charming, strong-willed man who usually sat in that chair.   
  
"Sir, you have an appointment with the French ambassador...," you looked at your watch, "ten minutes ago."   
  
He looked startled, which was understandable. You, too, had almost forgotten about the rest of the day, given the extraordinary event you had just witnessed. "Yeah, send him in. And Charlie..."   
  
"Yes, Mr. President?"   
  
"Don't tell anyone about this thing just yet. I'm not sure..." He trailed off. "I need to think about it some more, before I decide who to tell about it, or what I'm going to do..."   
  
"Yes, sir." You didn't envy the responsibilty he had on his shoulders, you thought, as you went to get the ambassador.   
  
As you shut the door, you heard the President apologizing to the ambassador. You wondered what he would say if he knew the real reason for the delay. "Oh, yes Mr. Ambassador, these mutants just appeared in the Oval Office and we had a chat for awhile. They're gone now." You had a feeling that the effect would be less than endearing, and smiled as you returned to your history reading. (The President had derided your contemporary American history class, and while that wasn't the primary reason for this semester's Civil War and Reconstruction era class, it never hurt to be on your boss's good side. Especially **your** boss's good side.)   
  
Now, then. You needed a topic for your term paper. The assignment was broad: relate one outcome of the Civil War to contemporary life. Flipping through your text, you frowned idly at the Fifteenth Amendment. _The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude. _ Where, you wondered, did mutants fit into this? They were citizens, certainly, but a mutation hardly qualified them as a separate race. And while it might, occasionally, mark them a different color... interesting. You were pretty sure they were still covered under the Fourteenth Amendment: _All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws,_ and of course the Ninth: _The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people._   
  
Still, though. What amendments would a war between mutants and humans produce? Smiling to yourself, you began scribbling an outline. Maybe, for once, the world would learn from history without having it repeat itself first. 


	5. Fire With Fire

The Blessings of Liberty, Part 5   
by heyjupiter/Renata of Doom (renatafrowl.org) 6/12/04   
Summary: The fifth part of a West Wing/X-Men movieverse crossover. Senior staff talks strategy following a mutant attack on the President. CJ POV.   
PG   
TWW Season 3 & X2 spoilers   
  
The events of the last few weeks were entirely a blur to you. It had started with the MS disclosure, but then the re-election announcement, RU-486, Haiti, the mutant attack... and now this. Just when you thought you were able to get back to the everyday insanity of the press room, **Texas** had happened.   
  
Well, Texas itself had actually occurred many years ago, and on the whole you had acclimated yourself to its existence. Recently, however, Texas had given itself another reason for notoriety. A mutant who had been fired from her job after ten years, with no reason officially given, had sued her former employer. She stated that her boss had seen her using her powers, presumably for the first time, and she had gotten the proverbial pink slip the next day. This, she felt, violated her company's anti-discrimination policy. Her employer, as well as his attorney, felt that the (rather verbose) policy in question, which covered "race, color, national origin, gender, religion, disability, age, veteran status and political belief," made no mention of one's genetic capabilities. In effect, their argument was that mutants were an entirely different species. The mutant and **her** attorney, on the other hand, believed that mutants were considered a race, and as such, were covered under the company's policy (as well as the Constitution.)   
  
After a lengthy process of appeals, the case had gotten as far as the Texas State Supreme Court, which had closely found in favor of the defendant yesterday. In effect, in the state of Texas, mutants were no longer considered human.   
  
This, rather obviously, has sent shockwaves throughout America, and not least of all through the White House. The mood in the West Wing ran the gamut from angry (Leo) to pissed off (Toby) to outraged (the President). Then, for variety, there was the depressed frustration that Sam and Josh shared, as well as your own sad indignation. The overwhelming tone, however, was **helplessness**. This was out of your jurisdiction, all of yours. President Bartlet could make a statement in support of mutant rights, which he obviously was planning to do. It was just the timing here that was killing you guys-- mutant rights was not a popular topic, and neither was another Bartlet term, at the moment.   
  
Absently, you looked at your watch just as Carol walked in to remind you-- "Yes, I know I have a meeting right now," you said, offering her a half-smile. It had, you knew, been a busy week-- month-- for her, too.   
  
And so you walked down the hall, and Mrs. Landingham nodded at you, and it occurred to you that you would never get jaded, that walking into the Oval Office would always hit you like a glass of water to the face. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course. You were surprised to see, aside from President Bartlet, a red-headed woman seated in the room. It was, you thought, the first time you had been a member of the majority gender in the Oval Office. (It was never easy for you to forget that you were a woman in a man's world.)   
  
The woman, hearing your approach, stood up and smiled. "Hello, Claudia Jean!", the President greeted you. "CJ, this is Dr. Jean Grey. Dr. Grey, this is CJ Cregg." You shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, and you were secretly delighted to discover that she was as tall as you.   
  
"You probably remember Dr. Grey's role in the Senate hearings," President Bartlet said, and you nodded. That whole hearing had been interesting, to say the least. Especially of late, in the light of Senator Kelly's change of heart... you had watched the hearing, you had seen the hatred in that man's eyes. Convictions are not so easy to change, and none of you really trusted the man. But that was really neither here nor there, and you forced yourself to focus on Dr. Grey's words.   
  
"... is flawed," she was saying. "The mark of a different species is an inability to crossbreed, and there is no evidence to suggest that humans and mutants cannot crossbreed. Therefore, mutants are just another race, if that. My research suggests that the mutant gene-- the X-factor, we've been calling it-- is just that, another gene, another trait. Blue eyes or brown eyes, mutant or not mutant--"   
  
"MS or no MS?", the President interrupted.   
  
"Well, yes, one's genetic heritage is one factor of MS." she replied. "And, in fact, research is also showing that heterosexuality or homosexuality may be genetically determined. But," she continued, pushing her glasses up, "regardless of **that** particular kettle of fish, all the research I've seen suggests that mutants are _Homo sapiens_, just the same as you or I."   
  
"So why didn't anyone tell that to Texas?" The President's tone sounded more curious than accusatory.   
  
Dr. Grey shrugged. "Well, I don't think the case was handled very well, for one, but even if they did think to call a geneticist to testify, this is a very new field, and there are definitely a variety of opinions on the subject."   
  
"So how do you know yours is the right one?"   
  
She bristled, barely noticeable, but regained composure. "Well, I don't **know**," she said calmly, "but I certainly have more research on the topic than anyone else in the field, and several of my colleagues agree with my analysis."   
  
He nodded. "What about mutants who claim to be a separate species? I seem to recall Magneto proclaiming mutants '_Homo superior_.'"   
  
Again, almost imperceptibly, she had flinched at the mention of Magneto. "Magneto is a terrorist. His words on the subject have about as much validity as a KKK Grand Dragon's opinion on the Constitutionality of _Brown v. Board of Education_."   
  
Meanwhile, something was wiggling at the very back of your consciousness. Something about Dr. Grey... something... you could feel it at the tip of your proverbial tongue, infuriatingly beyond reach, like a failed sneeze. You tried to focus once more on what she was saying.   
  
"... Thanks so much, Dr. Grey."   
  
"You're welcome, Mr. President. Please let me know if there's anything else I can do to help."   
  
"Oh, I will, I assure you," he said with his folksy grin.   
  
"Anything else, Mr. President?" you asked.   
  
He sighed. He looked older then than he usually did. And why shouldn't he, you chided yourself. If it had been a rough month for you, you couldn't imagine what it had been like for him.   
  
"Just the usual, world peace with a side order of universal health care."   
  
"I'll see what I can do," you said with a smile, and left. You were still thinking, however, about Dr. Grey. "Carol? Hey, do you think you could get me video footage of the attack on the Statue of Liberty? And the Senate hearing about the Mutant Registration Act?" Carol raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Sure, I'll see what I can do."   
  
"Great. Thanks." (You resisted the urge to comment on your deja-vu, and instead flopped down in your chair and shook some food into Gail's bowl. It seemed more productive.)   
  
You looked over your notes, tried to prepare yourself for the next briefing. You watched Gail. You felt restless, as if you'd like to be doing twenty things at the moment but did not have the initiative to start any of them.   
  
Finally, Carol brought you back to reality (or something close) with a light knock at the door. "Here's the footage you asked for. Anything up?" she asked, handing you the tapes.   
  
"Nope. Not yet, anyway, just... preparing," you said vaguely.   
  
You stuck the tapes in the VCR and watched the beginnings of Dr. Grey's speech. She would, you thought, fare well in politics if she ever gave up on genetics. You fast-forwarded through the next few minutes, not really sure what you were looking for. It was the second tape you were really interested in, and you watched the medley of news clips, as well as the footage from the Statue's security cameras, with an interested eye. The security footage was better, but a few minutes into it the footage from all the cameras went dead. It looked as if someone had taken a sharp blade to the lens, but still... it sparked something. You twisted your lip in thought, and called out your door, "Carol! Can you get me whatever information we have about the Xavier School for Gifted Youth? Especially anything about the school's staff?"   
  
"Sure, CJ."   
  
"Thanks."   
  
The coffee on your desk was long cold, and you continued to pore over the folder Carol had handed you. Desperately, you watched the footage one last time, hoping to see something different.   
  
But there was no mistaking it, the mutants attacking the Statue fit exactly the profiles of the staff of Xavier's school. If word got out... you cannot even imagine the panic if word got out that these terrorists had a **school**, were training the next generation of mutants to fight against humanity. That the White House had welcomed one of their teachers. If you could figure it out, what was to stop Danny from making the connection? Or worse, another reporter? From the sounds of the meetings the President had been having, it sounded as if the military had already figured it out, or at least begun to.   
  
And yet... something still didn't add up. There was still the matter of Magneto, and a few others, who did not seem to be affiliated with the school. They were the ones who had been arrested in connection with the attacks, the ones who had been unrepentant. The eloquent words of Dr. Grey's Senate address did not seem to fit with this profile. Was it just an act? Or what if, what if... if she and the others from Xavier's school weren't the terrorists after all? What if they had gone to **stop** the terrorists?   
  
Fight fire with fire. What if that was what they were doing?   
  
No one ever told you that this would be part of your job description: CJ Cregg, White House Press Secretary/Girl Detective. But you needed to find the stories before they were stories. And you needed to be sure.   
  
"Carol? Is Dr. Grey still in town?"   
  
"I think so, why?"   
  
"Do you think you could get her down here? Tell her it's important. Very important."   
  
"Sure," she said, and bustled off.   
  
And now you were back to waiting. You resisted the urge to feed Gail again-- you were terrified of overfeeding her. You knew you'd never live it down if you killed your goldfish. So instead you watched her swim, then checked your email again. Only one new message in the last few minutes, and as intriguing as "Wild Barnyard S3x" was, you deleted it unread.   
  
Idly, you sorted through the Xavier dossiers. An interesting collection of people, to say the least.   
  
And finally there was another knock at your door, and Carol led Dr. Grey into your office.   
  
You stood up. "So nice to see you again, Dr. Grey," you said and meant it. Terrorist or no (and after all, one man's terrorist is another's freedom fighter-- oh God, you must have been more exhausted than you had thought, you were thinking in cliches), you liked the woman.   
  
She nodded. "I'm glad to be of help, of course, Ms. Cregg."   
  
"CJ's fine. Please, have a seat. I have... I don't know how to say this. Dr. Grey, I need to know what happened on Liberty Island that night. What **really** happened."   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said. If you didn't know better, you'd have believed her. As it was, however, you tossed her a glare.   
  
"Dr. Grey, I don't know who you think you're dealing with, but I've been watching footage of the attack all day, and in case you've forgotten, I'm the White House Press Secretary. Everything the FBI and the CIA and the military know, I know." This was, to say the least, stretching it. Still though, how would she know? It's not like Jean was a mind-reader.   
  
"And they do know quite a lot about Xavier's school. So I'll ask you again to tell me what **really** happened on Liberty Island, or else I really don't think either of us is going to like what comes next very much."   
  
You met her gaze. "Well," she said, after an eternity, "I suppose the first thing I should tell you is that I'm a mutant myself. But," she added hastily, "I'm also a doctor, a geneticist, and a teacher. All of these things are true. And, much like myself, Xavier's school is more than meets the eye. It **is** a school for gifted youth. But our students are, well, genetically gifted."   
  
"A school for mutants?"   
  
"Yes. In addition to preparing them for college, we teach them how to use their mutant abilities. Beyond that..." Jean paused and sighed. "Beyond that, the teachers at the school... we've taken it upon ourselves to use our powers to help people, when necessary. There are some threats that we are better prepared to deal with than are human police officers. And besides our basic desire to do good, it does benefit us, as well. The fewer high-visibility crimes committed by mutants there are, the sooner so-called normal humans can begin to accept mutants."   
  
"Fighting fire with fire?"   
  
"So to speak. So: to answer your question, on Liberty Island, Magneto, along with his compatriots, planned his attack on the UN summit. His plan included a machine that would be powered by a young girl's mutant abilities, quite against her will. This girl was a student of ours, and we went to get her back. As well, of course, to stop Magneto-- we had learned that his machine did not work as intended. It was meant to mutate everyone within range, but it would instead kill them. The forced mutation was unstable, and simply broke down the afflicted person's entire genetic structure. The one subject we observed broke down so completely that his entire body simply turned to water."   
  
"Oh," was all you could think to say. If the plan had succeeded...! The President would have been a puddle on the floor, along with who knows how many other world leaders. It would have been chaos. And yet...   
  
"Why did you act yourselves? Why didn't you call the police or FBI?"   
  
"A few reasons, I suppose. First, we worried for the safety of Rogue, the girl whom Magneto kidnapped. Police sometimes seem to have... trouble... distinguishing between 'good' and 'bad' mutants. Second, we felt the situation was within our capabilities. And third, well, we were hoping that if we could take care of this, we could avoid more bad publicity for mutants." She laughed, half-amused, half-bitter. "Obviously that one didn't work out too well."   
  
You blinked. "Well! I can't say that this is what I was expecting. It's nice to know that I can still be surprised, after all these years."   
  
"So... what happens now?" Jean asked, a combination of defiant and uncertain.   
  
"I'm not sure. Mutant crime-fighting teams aren't exactly my field of expertise. Maybe... hmm."   
  
"Would we be willing to work with the FBI? Is that what you want to know?"   
  
"How did you guess that?"   
  
Jean looked genuinely embarrassed. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you didn't say that out loud... I... sorry. I forgot to mention, that's my mutant power-- telepathy. Usually I only read thoughts when I try to-- and I wouldn't, I wouldn't unless I had permission or it was an emergency. But lately my power's been different."   
  
"You read my mind?"   
  
She nodded, wincing.   
  
"How far away can you do it from," you asked, curiosity temporarily winning over your fears of a security breach.   
  
"Usually I need physical contact with someone for it to work. Lately, though, like I said, it's been different. I'm not sure how far away I could be now," she said with a shrug.   
  
"So you couldn't read, for example, the President's mind?"   
  
She looked offended, and you felt ashamed. You had no reason to distrust Jean, and you felt certain that this was the sort of reaction she was used to receiving.   
  
"Not from here, I don't think," she answered quietly. "But I haven't tried."   
  
"I'm sorry," you said. "You probably get that sort of thing pretty often. It's just, well, I'm curious I suppose, but it could also be a definite threat to security..."   
  
She sighed. "A crazy intern with a letter opener could also be a threat to security."   
  
"Yes," you agreed. "But last I checked, past the metal detectors we didn't have any telepathy detectors at the door."   
  
"Thank God for that."   
  
"Yes. Well. As I was saying-- or rather thinking-- would your group be willing to work with the FBI? I'm not even certain that this would be a possibility, but I think it would be worth looking into, at least. You'd get federal sanction for your activities, and the American people would get valuable assistance."   
  
"I can't speak for all of us," she said. "But it would certainly be worth looking into, as you say. But-- we don't want to have to answer to anyone. We're self-sufficient."   
  
"We'll see what's possible." You looked at your watch. "Well! It's getting late. Thank you for your time. Can I contact you about setting up a meeting with the... proper authorities?"   
  
Jean looked hesitant, and you gave her a tired smile. "You can trust me. Trust us. I promise."   
  
"Yes," she replied. "I think I **can** trust you. And yes. We will meet with you. It's the least we can do."   
  
"Excellent. Thanks again. Have a good night, Jean."   
  
_You too,_ you heard in your mind, and she turned to smile at you as she walked out the door.   
  
You watched Gail for awhile longer before deciding to go home. Tomorrow was another day, and tomorrow you could talk to the proper authorities.   
  
Tomorrow you could save the world.   
  
(Or at least, help the people who **could** save the world.)   
  
Tomorrow.   
  



	6. Epilogue: Tomorrows

The Blessings of Liberty, Epilogue   
by heyjupiter/Renata of Doom (renatafrowl.org) 6/12/04   
Summary: The epilogue to a West Wing/X-Men movieverse crossover. Jean Grey POV.   
PG   
TWW Season 3 & X2 spoilers   
  
You still couldn't believe all that had happened in the last few weeks. First-- you had seemingly returned from the dead. You still did not quite know how to explain how you had survived, or where all your new power had come from. Professor Xavier, too, was confused, and, you had noticed, concerned.   
  
You felt... somehow... different. Others chalked it up to your "near death" experience, but you knew better, and Scott knew better, and Professor Xavier knew better. It was more than that. It was like... you were sharing your body with another person. And you didn't much like that. But still, you were alive. There would be time enough to solve that particular puzzle later.   
  
Perhaps more significant was what had happened in the last few weeks, politically speaking.   
  
You gave CJ Cregg full credit for putting together the pieces of the puzzle, for recognizing that the X-Men and Xavier's School were one and the same.   
  
But you gave her even more credit for her reaction. You had felt surprise, yes, but that was to be expected. There had also been-- something hard to describe. You sensed that she was **impressed** by you, that she understood your lofty idealism.   
  
And things had fallen into place. The next day, her assistant had called you, and you and Scott went to represent the X-Men in a meeting with some very high-ranking FBI officials. People who wouldn't even have given you a second glance, if not for the White House. And they, too, had seemed to respect you. Assistant Director Walter Skinner had barely given you a second glance when you had admitted that you were a telepath, with telekinesis too. He radiated a sense of frustrated righteousness-- he wanted to help people, you felt, but he had trouble sometimes.   
  
Well, you knew the feeling. But, as CJ had promised, the meeting had happened, and gone well. The FBI could call on the X-Men for cases where they felt appropriate, and in return, the majority of their actions could be federally recognized. This was, as Skinner had reminded you with a steely glare, not a blank check. "There are," he had said, "some things that the government needs to deny."   
  
And so you would continue an existence outside the public eye, but then that was what you wanted.   
  
Still, you did someday hope to be able to live a free existence, to not have to hide because of her genes. And for that you were intensely grateful for the Mutant Rights Bill that had been introduced and was being debated, having received the full support of the Bartlet White House.   
  
And the Texas case had been selected for review by the US Supreme Court, and just yesterday you had heard that New York had amended its state discrimination code to include mutants.   
  
And tomorrow was still another day.   
  
A/N: Well, that's it guys! Thanks for coming along with me on this crazy ride. And remember, God kills a kitten every time you read a story and don't leave a review. Please, think of the kittens. 


End file.
